


there is a darkness and there is a light

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Depression, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's not Josh or Tyler, M/M, Recovery, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tyler and Josh attend the same group therapy every week.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags as there may be situations that can be triggering to some.

Tyler’s routine is simple.

Wake up, take medication, eat breakfast, go to therapy, go to class, come home, play Super Smash Bros, eat dinner, go to sleep, and then do it all over again.

There are other parts to his routine. There are things that he says throughout the day but he doesn’t say it to anyone; not his dad, not his therapists, no one. Instead he just says it to himself. Wake up, take medication, eat breakfast, _you’re not gonna throw up you’re not gonna throw up_ , go to therapy, go to class, _drive past the liquor store you can do it don’t stop just keep going_ , play Super Smash Bros, eat dinner, _you’re not going to throw up this time either_ , and go to sleep.

Today is no different. His dad is in the living room when he wakes up and drinks a cup of coffee as he watches the morning news.

“Hey bud,” he greets, and Tyler gives him a wave hello as he walks towards the fridge. He grabs the juice and gets a cup.

“The cheerios are almost gone,” his dad informs him, “if you finish it I’ll get some more on the way home from work.”

“I can do it,” Tyler tells him.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Tyler groans. “I am perfectly able to go to the grocery store and buy food,” he says.

“It’s really not a problem,” his dad replies, “There’s a few other things I need anyway.”

Tyler slams the cereal on the counter. “The cereal and the alcohol isles are nowhere near each other,” Tyler snaps, and then puts the cereal back into the cabinet. “Now we don’t even have to worry. I’m not hungry.”

“Tyler,” his dad calls out but Tyler ignores him and leaves him with the sound of his door slamming shut.

He stays in bed with the covers over his head until his dad leaves for work. He knows that means its 7:30. He has therapy at 9:00.

He wastes time by flipping through the channels on TV. There’s nothing good on in the morning but he doesn’t care. At 8:25 he grabs his jacket and car keys and heads out the door. By the time he gets to the center there’s only ten minutes before group starts. He rolls down his car window and lights up a cigarette. He reads a text from Jenna talking about how she regrets signing up for an 8:30 biology lab before entering the center.

His therapy group has six other people in it and they meet on Tuesdays. Tyler also has private sessions on Wednesdays. He daydreams through the session, barely listening as the girl across from him talks about how yesterday she really wanted to cut and as the therapist gives her advice. He stares blankly until he realizes the boy next to her is looking at him. Their eyes meet until they both look somewhere else. He’s wearing a black hoodie and he has pink hair. Tyler thinks of cotton candy during the remainder of the session.

When group is over he makes his way to the student union to meet up with Jenna.

“How’d today go?” She asks, and Tyler shrugs.

“Did you read the chapter for film?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Tyler replies. “I hope he shows a Goodfellas clip. That Copacabana tracking shot is sick!”

 Jenna nods in agreement. “Thank god for that class,” she says, “my science classes are kicking my ass. Why did I ever decide to be a bio major?”

“Better you than me,” Tyler tells her. “I definitely don’t have the brains for that.”

“Shut up,” she laughs and throws at chip at him.

Tyler knows it’s true, though. He met Jenna in middle school when they had classes together but when they transitioned to high school Jenna took advantage of all the AP classes and it was not a shock when she declared Biology as her major. Tyler has his major listed as English. His therapist had been excited when she found out and said that it was the perfect way to channel his emotions.

“Ugh, I have my next class in like five minutes,” Jenna frowns. “I’ll text you later. Maybe we can hang out tonight?” She asks.

Tyler nodded.

He only had one class today and it was fiction writing. The class went by fast and before Tyler knew it he was pulling into the driveway. He hung out in his room until he heard his dad coming home.

“Tyler!” He called, “I’ve got pizza!”

Tyler helped his dad get the table ready and they sat down to eat.

“How was your day?” His dad asks.

“It was fine,” Tyler exclaims.

“Listen, about this morning...”

“Dad,” Tyler moans, “seriously don’t worry about it.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. You’ve been doing really well these past few weeks. I’m really proud of you, bud. Sobriety looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” Tyler says.

Their conversation switches to sports and towards the end of dinner Tyler’s dad gives him the last slice of pizza.

“I’m tired,” Tyler declares after he’s put the dishes away. “Gonna call it a night.”

“Alright,” his dad says. “Night Ty.”

After Tyler closes his door he goes straight to his bathroom. He sits on the floor and stares at the toilet. His stomach feels full. He ate four slices of pizza. He wishes he had alcohol in his stomach instead. His dad was right. He hadn’t been drunk in a month. He misses it. It’s so easy to wash down your troubles with a shot. Take a shot because Mark aced his psych exam, take a shot because the school’s basketball team is going to the finals, take a shot because they made friends with the people at the table next to them and this round is on them.

_“Slow down there, buddy,” Jenna would tell him and he’d giggle and throw his arms around her. “Jennaaaaa,” he’d slur, “one more! Please? Pleaseeeeeee?” he’d beg. “Those puppy eyes don’t work on me,” Jenna would tell him but Tyler’s already ordering another round. “Drink the shot,” he’d sing, placing it in front of her, “Drink the shot! Drink the shot!” Jenna would sigh and drink it. Tyler cheered and drank his own. “I’m so gonna regret this in the morning,” Jenna would groan, and Tyler would laugh again and give her a hug._

Tyler never regretted it. Not even when he’s on his knees in front of the toilet and throwing up the remains of the food he ate while out with his friends because unlike Jenna, who tried her hardest not to get sick, Tyler stuck his finger in his mouth when no one was looking.

Here he is now sitting in front of the toilet and he’s finally regretting it. No. Scratch that. He regrets stopping.

He talks about it the next morning with his therapist.

“What made you think about your drinking?” she questions.

 “My dad said he was happy that I’ve been doing well,” Tyler informs her.

“Do you think you’re doing well?”

Tyler shrugs. “It kinda feels fake,” he admits.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m doing well but I’m still thinking about it. The urge is still there and it’s hiding and just waiting to resurface,” Tyler says.

“That’s the hardest part about recovery,” the therapist assures him.

“But what if it’s not really recovery? What if I really am only happy when I’m drunk? When I’m throwing up? Everyone always told me that the alcohol was just a temporary fix but what if sobriety is just the real temporary fix?”

“Do you think what you really felt when you drank was happiness?” His therapist asks.

“I dunno,” Tyler mumbles.

“When was the last time you felt happy?”

Tyler stares at the ground.

“What about a time where you felt proud of yourself?”

Tyler is silent. He bites his lip and thinks.

“Uh… maybe this one time when I was five? I made my mom breakfast. I remember I poured the milk in the cereal without spilling it. Then I got a cup of juice and didn’t spill that either. I made it all the way to her room without making any mess.”

“What did your mom say?”

“Nothing,” Tyler snarls. “I called out for her but she yelled at me to go away. She didn’t eat it.”

His therapist frowns and Tyler bites his lip again.

 “You said you first started drinking when you were fourteen?”

Tyler nods.

“Can you remember it?”

“I was spending the night at my friend’s house. His parents were out to dinner and they kept some beer in the fridge in his garage. We were curious. We got so sick in the middle of the night. Both of us threw up.”

“How did you feel after you threw up?”

“Relieved,” Tyler admits. “I felt so nauseous and then everything was in the toilet and it felt good. I felt at ease.”

“Our time is up,” His therapist tells him. “I want you to try and think of a memory where you felt happy. We’ll discuss it next week if that feeling is the same type of feeling you feel when you purge after a night of binge drinking.”

Tyler nodded and said his goodbyes.

He goes about his routine for the rest of the week. He tries to think of happy memories. There was the first time he rode his bike without training wheels and he was so excited to tell his mom but the door to her room was locked and she didn’t come out for the rest of the night. There was the time he got the lead in the school play except when he looked out in the crowd his mom was nowhere in sight. There was the day that his dad moved back to Ohio and entered his life again but they moved into their new house without his mom.

He decides to stop trying to think of a happy memory. He drives the long way to therapy so he doesn’t have to pass the liquor store.

Tyler sees the pink haired boy at group again. Tyler is zoned out like usual but he can hear the boy talk and say “dysthymia” which starts another discussion. When group is finished Tyler sits on the bench outside the center and smokes a cigarette.

“Got an extra to spare?” A voice asks and when Tyler looks up he sees the familiar pink hair.

He nods and the boy sits down and lights up the cigarette.

“I’m Josh,” he says.

“Tyler. I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” Josh grins.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Josh speaks again.

“So do you think this shit is helping you?” he asks.

“I guess,” Tyler responds.

“I never hear you say anything,” Josh exclaims.

“That’s what my _private_ therapist is for,” Tyler tells him as he gives him a wink.

“Ah, so you’re that fucked up?” Josh laughs.

“I guess so,” Tyler says as he starts to walk to his car. “See you next week.”

Josh waves goodbye.

They meet again at the next session and Josh sits down in the seat next to Tyler. At some point during the discussion a girl mentions her hospital stay after a suicide attempt and Tyler immediately takes that as his cue to zone out. He looks at Josh out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the session. As everyone is getting up to leave Josh turns to him and hands him a cigarette.

“It’s a thank you for last week,” he states, and Tyler follows him out to the bench.

“Today got deep,” Josh says and Tyler takes a drag from his cigarette and nods.

“Is it bad that I’m jealous of her?” Josh asks.

Tyler’s body tenses.

“I know it’s fucked up but at the same time I’m thinking at least she had a way out. Major depression puts your life to a complete stop but mild depression? You feel the same way but still go through the day pretending that you don’t. And when it’s chronic? It’s mild enough that you don’t want to kill yourself but the depression is still there and never goes away. You’re fucking stuck feeling like shit every fucking day.”

“How would you do it?” Tyler asks.

Josh gives him a confused look.

“If you ever got to the point where you were gonna kill yourself how would you do it?”

“I dunno,” Josh mumbles.

Tyler nods and then whispers, “You should put music on.”

Josh looks at him again and Tyler continues.

“There's a lot of movies where someone puts a song on repeat before they hang themselves or slit their wrists. It’s better that way. For the person that finds you. It gives them something to listen to as they wait for 911. That way they’re not just sitting there glancing between your body and the blood and brains on the wall. They’ll have something to listen to besides their own cries. Yeah, definitely put on music.”

Josh stares in silence as Tyler throws his cigarette on the ground and puts it out with his shoe. “See you next week,” Tyler waves, but Josh is too busy staring to respond.

The next day in therapy Tyler tells his therapist about his conversation with Josh.

“I made a new friend,” he says, “but then I scared him away."

“What happened?”

“We were talking about ways to kill yourself.”

“Does he want to kill himself?” His therapist questions.

“No,” Tyler says.

“Do you want to kill yourself?”

“No,” Tyler laughs.

“Did you ever come up with a memory where you were happy?” His therapist asks.

Tyler closes his eyes and wishes he was in group so he can zone out.

When he sees Josh the following week he gives him a big smile and waves hello but Josh only nods in return. He sits far away from Tyler and doesn’t glance at him once. When the session is over he walks straight to his car instead of stopping to have a smoke with Tyler.

Tyler tries to shrug it off as nothing but he can’t stop thinking about it. Why did he have to say what he said last week? He skips class and takes the long way home to avoid the liquor store but still has to pull into the parking lot of a pet store when he starts to cry. He makes it home and goes to his bed. He pulls the covers over his head and tries to sleep but he can’t. He finds himself searching through the house for what he knows isn’t there. His dad was never a big drinker so when Tyler quit all the alcohol in the house was removed. He goes to the kitchen and opens a cabinet. He pulls out cookies, and chips, and grabs a water bottle before retreating back to his room. He alternates between shoving the food in his mouth and drinking the water. His stomach is full and he feels sick. He makes his way to the bathroom.

He gets to his knees, lifts the toilet seat, sticks his finger in his mouth, and throws up. He throws up again and again.

His eyes are watering when he sits back against the wall. He closes his eyes at the familiar feeling of emptiness and relief. The sick feeling is gone. His thoughts and emotions left his body with the food.

 _“I want you to try and think of a memory where you felt happy.”_ He can hear his therapist say. Tyler laughs bitterly.

The Joseph family and happiness don’t go together.

Tyler doesn’t tell his dad or Jenna about his relapse. He goes about his week until it’s time for group again. Josh doesn’t sit next to him again but as he’s leaving he hears his voice calling his name. Tyler turns around to face him.

“Cigarette? He asks and Tyler shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m okay,” he replies and turns to leave but Josh’s hand on his shoulder stops him.

“Then just sit with me?” Josh pleads and Tyler bites his lip. “Okay,” he says.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you last week,” Josh apologizes as they sit on the bench.

Tyler shrugs. “It’s okay. I guess I really am that fucked up,” Tyler says, referencing their first conversation.

“We all are,” Josh proclaims.  “I’m sorry for bringing that conversation up.”

“It’s okay,” Tyler tells him.

“You can talk to me about if you want,” Josh urges and Tyler shakes his head.

“Alright,” Josh says, and gets up to walk to his car.

Tyler bites his lip before calling out, “It was my mom.”

Josh stops and turns around.

“She had depression when I was little,” Tyler confesses, and Josh sits down next to him. “Every day was bad. One day I got home from school and went to see how she was doing. She didn’t answer when I called her name but I knew she was home. I told her I was coming in and I opened the door to her room and there she was. She shot herself. I froze. It took me a minute before I freaked out and called 911.”

“How old were you?” Josh asks.

“Nine.”

“Jesus,” Josh mumbles .

“I just sat there on the floor while I waited. It was quiet. I was crying hysterically but it was so quiet because she was dead. She was fucking _dead._ ”

Josh pulls Tyler close to him and rubs his back.

“I need a drink,” Tyler admits, then he looks at his phone, "and it's only ten in the morning."

Josh shrugs. “It's college, dude. Wanna go to my place?” Josh asks and Tyler nods.

He lets Josh walk him to his car and let’s Josh drive him to his apartment. In the middle of the drive Tyler yells at him to pull over.

“What’s wrong?” Josh asks with concern.

“I can’t,” Tyler sobs.

“Can’t what?”

“Drink. I’m a… I shouldn’t drink alcohol,” Tyler informs.

“What about coffee? I know a good coffee shop.” Josh tells him. Tyler nods and they drive to the coffee shop.

“I already relapsed once,” Tyler whispers when they’re sitting at their booth. “My dad got rid of the alcohol so I just ate a bunch of food and then threw it up,” he says, and Josh nods even though he’s not fully aware of what Tyler is talking about. “Fuck,” Tyler groans. “What if I pass the store and can’t control myself?” Tyler asks.

“Then stay with me today. Let the urges pass.” Josh says.

“You sure?” Tyler asks.

Josh nods. “I’m sure.”

At his private session the next day Tyler’s therapist asks a similar question as before.

“Let's talk about something this week that made you happy,”she commands.

“Not happy,” Tyler says, “but proud.”

“Tell me about it,” His therapist exclaims.

“I relapsed,” Tyler tells her, and she looks concerned. “Last week,” he says, “after I had that conversation about suicide with that kid he didn’t even look at me at group. So I binged on food and threw it up. He apologized yesterday and I told him everything about my mom. I told him I needed a drink and he was gonna take me to his place but I stopped him and told him not to. We went to a coffee shop instead. I told him about the relapse and stayed with him for the rest of the day so it didn’t happen again.”

“Are you proud that you stopped yourself from binging on alcohol or food again?” His therapist asks.

“Yeah,” Tyler proclaims.

“Me too,” His therapist tells him.

“Do you think you’ll turn to him again if you ever need help?” She asks.

Tyler nods.

The next week at group Josh and Tyler sit next to each other and Tyler adds to his daily routine. Wake up, take medication, eat breakfast, go to therapy, have a smoke with Josh, go to class, get coffee with Josh, go back to his place, play Super Smash Bros, eat dinner, go to sleep, and then do it all over again.

A few weeks later when his therapist asks him the familiar question Tyler smiles. He knows how therapy works, and he knows that recovery takes time, but at least he's starting to end the Joseph lack of happiness curse.

“Let's talk about about something this week that made you happy,” His therapist states.

He tells her about his time with Josh.

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Ryan Adams & the Cardinals - Stop


End file.
